After The Fall
by Orphic Wordsmith
Summary: AU. Takes place post-Alleluia! and post-game for the Last Story. Dagran and Arganan both wake up separately in Hell, forced to find out why or how they got here. And it won't be easy. The more they journey through Hell, the more things they dig up about this demented carnival. And it doesn't help that there are the carnies to mess them up either.
1. Dagran

**Author note: I do not own The Devil's Carnival. Nor do I own The Last Story.**

 **After seeing trailers for The Devil's Carnival: Alleluia! and playing through The Last Story,**

 **REALLY IMPORTANT NOTE: I have not seen The Devil's Carnival: Alleluia! movie, so any backstory stuff involved with the Painted Doll is completely _nothing but my own speculation_ and said speculation is based off what I saw in the trailer and any other clips from the movie that I could find online. So please don't flame, thank you! *hides***

 **Warning: LOTS OF SPECULATION ABOUT BACKSTORIES OF Painted Doll, Count Arganan and Dagran, possible spoilers for both The Devil's Carnival and The Last Story, DagranxPainted Doll, Count ArgananxPainted Doll, past DagranxCount Arganan, past AgentxDoll/June, mentions of sex but mostly pondered about/talked about between characters, violence, cursing, more warnings to be put up later**

* * *

 ** _After The Fall_**

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 _1\. Dagran_

* * *

Dagran couldn't help but groan as he woke up, lying on his side. Vision hazy, he saw vertical bars of black, dim lighting, flickering torches..

What?

He blinked a couple of times, sitting up immediately and realizing where he was.

He was in a cage.

He crawled forwards, rattling the bars with his hands lightly, but they wouldn't budge.

"Damn it." He whispered to himself. Was in the Lazulis Castle Dungeon? Did he actually survive Zael's finishing blow and so they took him back to Lazulis Castle, only to throw him in the dungeon? So much for his friends.

But he'd betrayed them first, and he'd also killed General Asthar. If he was in a cage in the dungeon, it was probably for the sake of keeping the peace among hte people of Lazulis, probably to prevent riots because it was more likely they would riot if they let someone who killed _General Asthar and betrayed Lazulis_ go.

Wait. Maybe he could find a way out of this cage. Noticing a padlock, shut tight, he quickly crawled to it, grabbing the heavy lock and gazing at the keyhole. He could pick this lock, no problem. He just needed a needle. Some thin metal object...something. And no, he had none of those in his hair, and after checking his pockets, he had no hairpins either. Sometimes Mirania had used those to help him with his hair.

Maybe there was something in the cage with him that could help him out. He did quick search of his limited surroundings.

No. Nothing but hay, unfortunately. Growling, he shook the bars again.

"Hello?" He called out, looking around. "Zael? Mirania? Calista? Syrenne? Yurick? Lowell?"

He rattled the cage bars once more. "Anyone?"

There was silence.

He couldn't help but swallow slightly, wincing at how dry his throat was. He needed water. He felt weak. How long had he been unconscious? He wasn't sure. Maybe he'd been out for a day, two days, maybe a week. He had no idea.

"Well then..." Maybe if he stuck around in this cage someone would come by and notice him. Or maybe not. Taking a breath, he sat down on the cage floor and waited.

Footsteps suddenly alerted his attention, and he straightened himself, turning to the left. "Hello?" He managed, hoping he was loud enough for the person to hear. "Wh-where am I?"

There was silence, but the figure simply came closer. It became apparent that this person was a woman—and certainly not someone that he knew at all.

She was a petite woman, curly light blonde hair between chin and shoulder-length with bangs and almost-white pale skin. Her beige, stitched corset had an opening in the middle (which nearly revealed her breasts, much to Dagran's embarassment as he did his best _not_ to just stare at her chest), laced together with crossed strings. Burgundy tulle sleeves covered her arms, completed with a large cream colored ribbon around her neck, a puffy burgundy tutu, red tights under torn, black fishnets and brown high heels.

Her hands, covered withbrown fingerless gloves with cream-colored ruffled arm guards gently gripped the bars of the cage, gazing at him curiously with her two different coloured eyes (right eye blue and left one being brown). Dagran also took notice of the tattered bandage tied on her right arm and that she had a burgundy hairpiece made of tulle resting in her hair. The most noticeable thing about her, however was her face. A series of cracks ran down mostly on the right side of her face, but there were a little bit of cracks on the left side as well. She blinked, long eyelashes shimmering in the light. Lips obviously covered with pink lipstick pursed together, almost in imitation of offering a kiss, and her mostly undamaged side of her face was powdered pink.

To be honest, she really looked like one of those expensive, pretty porcelain dolls, but more lifelike than expected. Save for the cracks on her face of course.

Dagran wasn't quite sure how to speak to her. Was she mute? Maybe that's why he hadn't heard her speak quite yet.

"Um, excuse me, miss." He started, hoping that he wasn't freaking her out any more than her appearance was freaking him out. "I don't quite know where I am. Can you tell me?"

One of her eyebrows lifted slightly, as if giving him a little look, before she pointed to her mouth.

"Wait, what?" Dagran was not the greatest with sign language.

She seemed to give a little huff, one hand on her waist, before she tapped her puckered lips with her other hand once more to try to get her point across.

"Wait..." Dagran quickly figured it out. "You want me to kiss you first?"

She nodded, a little half-smile appearing on her face as she leaned forwards a bit more, giving him an excellent view of her face up close, and a little more of her corset-covered cleavage. He felt his face heat up slightly, and decided _to hell with it_ before he kissed her. Her tongue slipped in between his teeth, and he felt her pull him closer to her, their lips locking more than he expected.

Then— _ow_. Wait, _what?_

Dagran could hear her smirk slightly at him as he put a hand to his lower lip.

 _She bit me!_

Damn, _no one_ he'd ever kissed before had intentionally done that, and he was more than sure that she had fully intended such a bite on his lips.

Not the worst of injuries, though. He'd had worse. And besides, he had other things to attend to.

"I kissed you," Dagran stated, giving her a little bit of a look, "And I assume that you have information you can give me, miss...?"

The painted woman gave him some sort of flirtatious look, a little bit of a leering smirk. For a moment, Dagran thought he saw the Count's face in his mind's eye, and then blinked and saw the woman again—

No, _not_ the woman. A snake skinned man (or at least Dagran thought it looked like snake skin, because what else it could be?) seemed to almost chortle with amusement, ragged top hat and other clothes replacing the tulle and corset.

"Howww naiiiveeee." He murmured, grinning at him, his voice slithering through Dagran's ears. "Thought youuu'd beee betterrr than thissss..."

Dagran blinked, rubbing his eyes with a hand. What the hell had just happened? Did the woman just..was that an illusion? He must be seeing things!

"Who the hell are you?" Dagran felt himself nearly hiss in return, glaring at him. "What do you want with me?" He had the feeling that this one was surely not to be trusted, especially if it could shiftshape into something so eerily beautiful as the woman from before.

The other man merely gave a mockery of a bow. "Twinnnn, aaatt your seerrrrviceeee..." He crooned, chuckling a bit. For some reason, his deceptive demeanor seemed to remind Dagran of both Zesha and Zepha.

Before Dagran could speak, the Twin transformed into none other than Count Arganan, gazing at him intently, his one good eye piercing Dagran's golden ones, head tilted downwards slightly with a slight grin on his face, as if attempting to seduce him. Dagran recalled making a similar face to the Count during the first time they ever slept together.

However, just because Dagran could make a face so beauteous enough to seduce the Count of Lazulis, it did not necessarily mean that the Count could do the same.

Deciding that force would be a better idea right now to get some answers, he showed one hand through the bars, gripping the Twin by the throat. The Count's face in front of him wavered, and then returned back to the Twin's normal face, save for his eyes bulging out slightly from surprise.

"I need answers." The former mercenary leader stated, looking right into his eyes. He didn't want to be too hostile but sometimes he knew it had to be called for. "Where am I? And why am I here?"

The Twin merely smiled, pulling away from Dagran's grasp with little struggle, a throat chuckle emerging from his throat.

"I-in H-Helllll..." The snake-skinned man murmured, before he turned on his heel and began to walk away, turning his head to look at him, his face transforming into Dagran's own. "Darreee to tread in the faceeee of dangerrr, Dagran...?"

He then walked away.

"What the—hey!" Dagran rattled the bars, glaring at the Twin. "Damn it...you didn't answer why I'm here!"

He then heard a soft creak, and he turned to his right to see that the cage door was open, unlocked. It seemed to almost bait him to go outside the cage, daring him to venture farther through this place. Deciding to take a chance, the mercenary leader got out of the cage, looking around and standing on both feet.

In Hell. The Twin just said that he was in Hell. The very thought of it made Dagran shiver slightly. He didn't actually think that Hell was real. He thought that people just simply end up being nothingness after death. Well, he guessed he must be wrong, then.

Checking himself quickly, he realized he had no weapon. He needed to truly tread carefully. Anyone could attack him. And The Twin—how in the world did that strange man know his name?

Maybe if he followed him, he would get answers.

So he did just that. Taking a couple steps down the alley, the smell of cotton candy echoed in his senses, followed by strange bouts of laughter and...screams?...from nowhere. Then he noticed a huge Ferris Wheel nearby.

Well, if he was in Hell, why did it have to end up being some strange carnival?

That was when he heard singing.

He was used to hearing singing sometimes, when he walked around Lazulis at night. There could be drunks, or bards, or drunken bards doing the singing. It was fine. He was used to that.

But this was different. This wasn't some drunken chanty. Oh, no.

The voice was _divine._

It was feminine voice, he was sure of it. Maybe if he found the source he could ask for help? Get his answers about why he was even here?

That sounded good. He did just that, closing his eyes briefly to listen, before he walked a couple steps to the left, then the right, then left one more time...

Oh!

The music stopped. He found a woman who looked _exactly_ like the porcelain doll-like appearance that the Twin had on to trick him into kissing him.

Except Dagran was pretty sure that this living porcelain doll, cracks and all, was real this time. There was only so much one could do with tricks, and as far as he guessed, she didn't look like she was going to be harming him. At least he hoped this was a real person this time and not an illusion.

"Excuse me, miss?" He started, looking around before scampering over to her booth. "Do you mind telling me, uh...where I can find the boss of this place? So I can ask him a couple questions." He managed. There must be some leader down here in Hell, right? Dagran forgot said leader's name, unforunately. Maybe if he could find him, have a chat with him...it could work somehow. Right?

The woman turned, looking to him, before she gently tapped the sign above her, attached to her booth.

 _Kissing Booth._

Well shit.

He'd have to kiss her _again._ Well, at least it seemed like this was the real her and not the Twin person.

"Well," Dagran managed, smiling at her awkwardly, attempting to be enthusiastic in the hope of her being a bit nicer than the Twin, "Okay. I can do that..."

She simply, quietly smiled, before leaning forwards and pressing her lips to his.

She tasted better than the Twin, for sure. Still had that cotton candy air about her, her lips full and absolutely _perfect_ to kiss.

Maybe he kissed her a little too much, though, because she pulled back and gave him a slight glare, her little hands on her hips.

"Uh, sorry." He managed awkwardly, shooting her a smile. Other women back when he was alive (and even the Count) would have found it adorable that he was acting so awkward and flustered, even if it was a mere act.

The woman looked a little amused, but not as amused as he hoped for, before pointing in one direction.

"He's that way? Hey, thanks." He smiled at her, giving her a wave before he left.

Damn, that woman was cute. She honestly was cute, but he sensed something alluring from her also. And she was helpful (or at least he hoped she was trying to be), so that helped his impression of her also.

He then realized where she'd pointed at.

It was a tent, with the words _Mirror Maze_ on a sign nearby.

 _This could be my way to find the boss of Hell and figure out why I got here._

He went inside the tent without another moment's hesitation.

 _Or it could be a trap._

Only one way to find out.


	2. Arganan

**Please note: Count Arganan doesn't have a first name in the Last Story game, so I just call him Lucius. Hope you don't mind! XD**

* * *

 _2\. Arganan_

* * *

A groan escaped his lips as he woke up. Vision was blurry, but he was aware that he lay on his back, lying on something soft. A colourful quilt with lace frills at the edges covered his being. It was comfortable, almost, lying there. It would have been a perfect place to nap, almost.

But this was not his room.

This was very much _not_ his room in Lazulis Castle.

Sitting up, he could not help but gaze around him. He didn't feel like he was in pain—his blurriness stopped. Looking down, he realized that he still retained his entire being, including the metal limbs. The only thing missing was his cane and eyepatch.

But...where was he?

That was when he heard a pained moan from the right. There was a tent flap (was he in a tent, then? What? How did he get in a tent of all places?) and suddenly he could hear some sort of weak chanting.

 _"_ _Alleluia, Alleluia, Alleluia. Always, always Alleluia. Lace my vest and mend my soul. Allelu—"_

What the hell was this person saying? Arganan had no idea at all. He slowly slid off the bed, doing his best to stand. Immediately his vision went hazy again, thoughts of the Sentinel Beast Mitra invading his mind. His stomach churned, and moments later he bent forwards and promptly vomited.

The smell of bile filled the air and Arganan shuddered, looking and stepping away from the mess he made. At least he hadn't vomited on the bed, though he'd have to clean it up later anyway.

"Hello?"

...Did that voice just come from the right? From the tent flap? His singing had stopped, replaced by a shaky male's voice.

"Hello?" The man repeated. "I-is...anyone there...?"

Arganan knew he could just turn and leave. But part of him urged him to investigate. Taking a deep breath, he spoke up in response.

"Yes. I'm here." He managed, realizing his voice was shaky. Was he still reeling from Mitra nearly sucking out his life? "Wh-who are you?"

There was a moment of silence, before there was a response.

"...They call me the Agent."

The Agent? That was a rather strange name. Arganan took a few more steps towards the tent flap, before going through.

He met the gaze of a man younger than him. He had to be in his twenties, his hair once slicked back but now all mussed up, unkept. His clothes were torn, any exposed skin showing bruises or cuts, and rope kept the poor man tied to his chair by the ankles and the upper arms.

Arganan wasn't exactly sure what to say.

"H-how did you get here...?"

The Agent winced slightly, looking to him. "I was sent here by God...to strike a negotiation. L-Lucifer decided otherwise and I've been stuck down here since." He weakly flailed in the ropes, before making eye contact with the older man, his eyes widening in surprise. "Y-your eye..."

Arganan grimaced, putting a hand up tot he left side of his face. Whoever brought him to this place had removed his eyepatch. "I got this years ago." He managed, looking to the Agent. "Nothing I can do about it."

The Agen just looked more puzzled than anything. "I'm...going to guess that you're not a carnie working around here."

A carnie? What the hell was this guy referring to? Arganan was _not_ some fool of sorts! "No, I'm not." He responded sharply, partially glaring at him. "I need answers. What is this place exactly?"

The Agent seemed to tremble as he looked to him.

"This place is Hell."

As if one cue, Arganan heard the _swish_ of the tent flap behind him, and he turned around to see a woman walk in. She was slender, petite, and...she looked like a porcelain doll. She really did.

Except that she was lifesized and—wait a moment, was that _his_ eyepatch she was trying to wear over the right side of _her_ face?

He looked her in the eyes, gazing at her quietly and backing away slightly from the Agent. "Is he yours?" He asked, gesturing from the woman to the Agent. Perhaps the woman owned this man? Why else would he be here and why else would she be here?

The woman made a noise that sounded like a scoff, before she glared at the Agent, a noticeably sharp, small dagger in a gloved hand. Ignoring Arganan, she walked straight over to the younger man, vengeance in her different-coloured eyes.

"I was following orders, June." The man whimpered, attempting to back up in his chair, but failed to, simply due to already being restrained. Arganan felt slight pity for him as he continued to protest. "D-do you really think that I wanted to…to…" He attempted to point at the cracked side of her face with his finger but couldn't quite reach high enough as his upper arms were bound to the chair, "It was part…part of the Design.."

June? Was that the woman's name? Arganan wasn't sure whether he should interrupt them or stand by and watch quietly. He then caught the Agent's look in his eyes ( _help me,_ he pleaded silently) and then the woman turned her head slightly to face Arganan, the frown on her face seemingly indicating _who are you?_

"I..." Arganan awkwardly looked to her, trying to meet her gaze but found a pinprick of fear forcing him not to. "My name is...Arganan. Lucius Arganan. I don't know how I got here? Who are you...?" He looked to the Agent. "He just called you June...is that your name?"

It felt weird to call himself by his first name. Everyone back at Lazulis called him by a title, or if it was Calista she'd obviously call him 'uncle.' Not Lucius.

June frowned, shaking her head, drawing a line over her neck, almost baring her teeth at him, glaring at him. _Don't you dare call me by that name any longer._

He took a step back, lifting his hands slightly to show surrender. "Alright. I won't call you by that name." He looked to the Agent, then to the woman who didn't want to be called June. "I don't know what is going on between the two of you, but I have the feeling I should...just leave...don't mind me." He flashed an apologetic look to the Agent right after he said that. This situation was dangerous. An angry woman with a knife was never a good situation to be in.

He started to turn towards the tent flap to get out, but he felt a hand grab his right wrist. He turned meeting the woman's gaze, and she appeared to be smiling slightly. With her other hand, she placed the dagger into his hand. He looked down at it, and then at her, and then at the Agent, whose eyes were widening with some horror.

"D-don't, June—" The Agent started, but the woman seemingly growled at him silently, one hand coming forwards to backhand him in the face. He groaned, reeling slightly.

Arganan gripped the dagger in his hand, looking to the woman and then to the Agent, an idea of what she wanted him to do with it.

"...You want me to stab him?"

All she did was smile and nod.

"Um, where?" He suddenly felt stupid. His instincts from his old days as a soldier should tell him, but they didn't seem to be talking to him right now. And he honestly didn't wish to stab a man he barely knew, but he doubted he could back out. "Does it matter where?"

Especially once the woman took out another knife and pointed it at his head, most likely threatening to hurt him if he didn't go and stab Agent. _Just do it already,_ her eyes seemed to speak.

He hesitated, slowly approaching the younger man, giving him an apologetic glance once again before stabbing him straight into the chest, right below his left shoulder blade. Agent gasped, groaning, shutting his eyes, and Arganan had to close his one good eye in an attempt to block out the other's face.

Opening his good eye again, he let go of the blade, leaving it in Agent's chest, before turning to the woman. "Sh-should I take it out?"

She seemed to pause, thinking, before shaking her head. There was a certain air of authority to her—it made Arganan wonder if she had some good ranking around here in Hell, if there were any ranks, but it demanded attention at all times. The older man retreated from Agent and towards her.

"Is...is that all? Can I go now?"

He saw her give a gentle half smile, before she roughly grabbed him by the scarf and pulled him close, pressing her lips to his.

 _No._

She tasted _so sweet._ Like some fruity, alcoholic drink or cotton candy or something. He wasn't quite sure what. Maybe a fruit tart...? He could feel her using a bit of tongue in an attempt to make the kiss rougher, and he did his best to comply, hoping that she wouldn't be as horrid to him as she was to Agent only moments ago if he went along with her schemes.

She then pulled away and—oh, _ow_. Did she bite his lip? Yes, she did.

He winced sligtly, running a finger over his now-bleeding lower lip as she smiled tenderly at him. The kiss could have gone worse, he guessed. He'd bear with the bizarre beauty in front of him. (H _e really did have to admit that she was beautiful in a unique way, but also bizarre—who in the world goes and wears a corset that keeps partially exposing more of one's chest than needed? Then again this place was Hell, so...)_

"J-June..."

The two turned to see Agent, who looked torn. "Don't leave, please...I..." He started, but the woman frowned and grabbed Arganan by the wrist, dragging him out of the area, through the tent flap. She then covered the tent flap area with some hidden, velvet curtains (probably for blocking noise, Arganan guessed) and then turned to him, smiling.

"So..." Arganan wasn't quite sure where to start, licking up the last of blood from his lip. It would heal soon, he could sense that. The bite she'd given him wasn't too deep. "What now?"

She pulled away from him, making a motion towards the bed, patting it slightly. _Come sit,_ her eyes said.

He eyed her carefully. "Are you trying to seduce me...?" He started. He wasn't exactly so keen on sleeping with someone he just met in that way.

She gave him a little glare telling him _no,_ and then patted the bed again. He nodded awkwardly, walking over to the bed and sitting down beside her on it.

After he sat down (the two both trying to ignore the scent of his bile from earlier), the Doll began making gestures. She held up a finger on each hand, one pointing to the velvet curtains and the other to herself, before they joined together.

"You used to love him?"

She nodded, pushing both her fingers together as if to imitate two people kissing. She then pulled them apart, one of the fingers pushing the other down in a forceful manner.

He winced. "He betrayed you." He managed.

She nodded, her eyes darkening at once as she let her hands fall to her sides.

It made him think of his niece Calista. How he'd hurt her. Part of him regretted that now. How could he be so blind...? Was there any way to go back and see her somehow, to say 'I'm sorry' to make up for it...? To do something to give his niece any consolation?

He snapped out of his thoughts as the woman gazed straight into his good eye. He hesitated, unsure of what to say. He'd hurt people and she'd been hurt before and he wanted to make up for it somehow. If this was truly Hell, he was being punished. Perhaps his punishment was servitude to one that'd been a victim in a past? Perhaps he was to take up servitude to her. He was pretty sure that Hell came with punishments for those who ended up there.

"I won't be the same as him." He whispered, looking to the velvet curtains and then to her. It felt strange to say those words, as if he was making some vow. "I know I'm not necessarily a good person—" He laugehd slightly at himself for that, "How can I if I ended up here, for what I did? I'm not blind to concepts concerning the afterlife. But all I can do is try to make the best of it."

 _Great men make the best of any situation that confronts them._

That was something he remembered mentioning to the mercenaries back at Lazulis when the Gurak attacked. And he would follow through with it.

She seemed to smile in approval at him, before she removed his eyepatch from her face and placed it in his metal hand. The right side of her face looked like there were cracks, yet there was no blood. Only darkness remained where the gaps were.

He lifted his right hand slowly. "M-may I...?" He asked, gesturing to her face. She also appeared to hesitate, but then nodded.

Putting his hand to the right side of her face, he traced a few cracks and felt her tremble slightly. Perhaps Agent was the cause of it? It made Arganan a little furious that he'd actually felt bad for the man earlier. If Agent was the cause of it in _any_ way...

He slowly lowered his hand, gazing into her eyes.

"I can protect you from him."

The words escaped him before he could stop them. He watched the woman's eyes widen slightly in surprise, before holding up her knife, as if trying to indicate that she could easily care for herself. He thought back to Agent, all tied up and beaten. Had the woman beat him up herself? Then she must be far stronger than she looked.

She then smiled, stood from the bed, and gestured him to come follow. Before he could even stand from the bed, she'd already went through another tent flap, presumably out of the tent.

He gasped, getting up and quickly tying his eyepatch back on, following her as fast as he could—limping did not help at all. "Wait, I—"

As soon as he went through the tent flap, he realized she was gone. She must walk a lot faster than he originally thought. But where did she go?

Maybe he could find someone and ask them for directions. Looking in both directions, he went to the right, hoping to find her or at least find someone who could point him in the direction she went.

The smell of popcorn alerted his attention, and there was some sort of music that echoed in the air. Music that could only belong to a carnival.

Was Hell a carnival?

That had to be the strangest thing yet.

He then heard giggling, and looked to his left to see three women standing around a booth or stand of sorts, chugging whiskey or some alcoholic drink from their glasses. They were no nobles for sure—if anything, the looked like brigands of a sort. Perhaps not the most trustworthy people, but perhaps they were people condemned to Hell like him, too. He didn't have too much to lose by trying to ask them—at least he didn't think so.

"Excuse me, ladies?" He fake-coughed to get their attention, and they all turned their heads to meet his gaze. "I'm looking for this woman—she has cracks in her face, looks a bit like a porcelain doll but about..." He tried to gesture with his metal hand. "This tall, I think. Have you seen her pass by?"

"Mmm..." One of the women looked to the other two. "I haven't. Have you two?"

"Nope." The other two chimed in.

Arganan sighed softly. So much for help. "I suppose I'll be going then. Apologies for disturbing your time." He managed, turning around with the intention to continue searching.

That was when he heard the _click_ of a pistol behind him, and the next thing he found himself doing was lunging his entire self downwards.

A gunshot rang in the air and he scrambled to get up, his feet telling him to _run run run_ as he heard giggling behind him.

"Ha! You're in Hell now, sir!" One of the women was heard yelling from behind. "No point of running from us!"

 _Oh shit._

Said women he'd just asked for help only a moment ago became hostile immediately afterwards, and most likely for sport.

 _Shit._

He kept running, hearing gunshots ring in the air. He felt something course into the back of his shoulder and he yelped painfully, clutching onto his shoulder with his metal hand as he tried to find a place to hide, anywhere. He had to get away from these women and find someone else for help...

That was when he noticed a sign.

 _Mirror Maze._

He didn't even bother to think too much before rushing inside. If it would help him lose his pursuers, that would be good already as it was.

* * *

 **Author note: Thank you for reading so far! XDDD Just wondering—I've had this strange idea of a ship name for Painted DollxCount Arganan. Strange ship itself, I know, but here's the name: _Fallen Angel Shipping._**

 **Here's why I want to give it this specific name:**

 **1\. The sword that Count Arganan gives to Zael, the main character, about halfway through the game is called 'Fallen Angel.'**

 **2\. Painted Doll/June was once an angel in Heaven as far as I can figure out, and then fell into Hell somehow (though I have a feeling that the Agent is partially to blame for this—apologies if I get it wrong but I have NOT seen the Devil's Carnival: Alleluia! movie so this is just my speculation speaking), therefore labeling her as a 'fallen angel' because that's what they generally call those that fell into Hell from Heaven.**

 **3\. Count Arganan and Painted Doll BOTH were in better positions in the past, with Count Arganan having implied (judging by the fact that he always carries a sword but doesn't fight in the battle scenes) to have once been a soldier while Painted Doll/June was once an angel in Heaven. June/Painted Doll got sent to Hell while Count Arganan most likely lost his limbs after a horrible time during war or something prior to the game and, before he became Count, had nothing else to give him any status.**

 **4\. Also, Count Arganan and Painted Doll have disfigurement on one side of their faces, despite the fact that Painted Doll has it on the right side of her face while Count Arganan has his on the left side of his face (and apparently in a piece of concept art Arganan has scars ALL OVER the left side of his body but I can't find it online anywhere), and before being a denizen of Hell the Painted Doll didn't have any facial scars and I'm guessing that before he lost his limbs and had his facial scars Count Arganan probably didn't have any scars on him either.**

 **Hence, Fallen Angel Shipping.**

 **I'd like to know what you think of it, so please tell me via reviews or PMs! Thanks! XD**


	3. Search

_3\. Search_

Dagran looked around, glaring at all the reflections of himself that he could see.

Where in the world could the exit be? He had no idea how long he'd been in the Mirror Maze, and he had a feeling that he was definitely lost.

That was when he took a left, and bumped heads with a familiar man.

"Ow!"

"D-Dammit!" Dagran groaned, holding his head, taking a step back and leaning against a mirror. Looking up at who it was, he stared. "Wait..wait a sec. Count? What are you doing here?"

Count Arganan stared right back at him, his good eye wide and full of confusion. "I would...ask you the same question." He managed. "I'm glad I found you. I've been trying to look for this woman—" He looked around, "I was following her earlier, but I lost her."

A woman? Dagran tried to think. Wait a minute, that woman at the kissing booth—

"Count?"

"What?"

Dagran swallowed briefly. "Uh, did she have cracks on her face by any chance? Blonde hair, petite figure?"

Arganan nodded immediately. "Yes, she did—wait, you saw her didn't you? Doll?"

Dagran blinked. "That's her name? Doll?"

Arganan shrugged sheepishly. "I honestly don't know. She just looks like one, so I guess I just started calling her that only now."

"Well," Dagran managed, "I saw her too."

Arganan's good eye widened. "You did?"

He nodded. "Yes, I did." He shivered slightly—was it cold in this Mirror Maze or was he still feeling creeped out about where he was. "She was at a Kissing Booth. I kissed her so she'd give me the directions as of where the boss of this place is."

"Hell."

"What?"

Arganan cleared his throat before responding. "This place is Hell. That's what the Agent told me."

So this place really was Hell. "Who's the Agent?"

Arganan shrugged. "As far as I could guess, someone from Heaven who was sent here for negotiations with the ruler of Hell. Said ruler decided to keep him prisoner, and Doll made me stab Agent."

Dagran looked intrigued. "What did she do after you stabbed him?"

Arganan shuddered, a slight blush coming to his face. "She kissed me."

The former mercenary leader definitely could not help but stare at that. "What?"

Arganan blinked. "Did you kiss her, too?"

"Um, yeah." The younger man managed sheepishly. Both looked to each other quietly, unsure of what to say, falling into an awkward silence. Both had kissed each other once or twice, when they were back in Lazulis, and now they'd both kissed the same woman, too. Neither were sure how to properly handle that sort of situation, if it really needed handling.

"We should get out of here." Arganan suggested, and Dagran nodded quietly in return. They made their way through the Mirror Maze with each other, and brushed hands once.

Unfortunately, they were greeted by the sight of three strange women, with pistols and swords out.

"Heeyyaaa misterr," One of them crowed, winking. "Missed us?"

Dagran blinked. "What the—"

He felt Arganan drag him in the opposite direction. "RUN!"

Gunshots rang through the air, the cackling of wild women behind them growing as both men ran.

"Who the hell are they!?" Dagran managed to yell, panting. Looking behind him, he noticed said women catching up, and he shuddered. That could _not_ be good.

"I don't know," He heard Arganan mutter, "But they were chasing me earlier. That can't ever be good."

Dagran had to think quickly. They could just keep running and try to hide. Or...

He let go of Arganan's hand. "Go without me."

Arganan turned to him. "What? I can't just leave you—"

"It'll be fine, I can handle them." He responded quickly. "Go ahead of me! I can try to slow them down."

"They look strong." The older man responded. "And you don't have any weapon on you, as far as I can see."

Dagran tried to stay calm—the Count was right, but—"I can still slow them down without one, Count. I don't want you to get hurt by them and me distracting them will give you a running headstart. You can't fight like this..."

Arganan took a deep breath, a hesitant nod coming from him. "I'm counting on you," He whispered, before he rushed away.

Dagran took a deep breath, turning to the three women approaching. He was unarmed, but he knew he could—

The next thing he knew, he was already down on the ground, a slash delivered to his chest. Dagran gasped, putting a hand to his chest, feeling the light slice through his skin. _They're so fast!_

He growled, quickly ducking out of the way of another swing of the sword, rushing to a nearby booth and tearing off part of it. There were nails sticking out of it, much to his relief, and maybe he could use it as a weap—

He heard a _click_ and he looked u—

* * *

A lone gunshot rang through the air.

Arganan knew it. He just _knew it._

Those damned women killed Dagran while Arganan simply turned tail and fled.

"D-damn it!"

Arganan rushed past a few tents, a few booths, unsure of where to go. What was he going to do? He just left Dagran to _die_ and all he did was run.

He felt guilty for that. The two could have at least taken down one of those strange women but no, Dagran told him to escape, and instead of holding his ground Arganan ran away.

Was he always such a coward? Arganan could barely remember a time where he stayed on the battlefield to fight, back when he was soldier, back before he lost his limbs and then later became Count. There was a time when he wasn't a coward.

And he'd bring it back—he'd bring it back. He wouldn't—couldn't— _didn't_ want to be the coward the hung back when the battle started. He felt fire in his veins and he growled, looking around. He barely remembered feeling this way on the battlefield long ago, but it came back at full force and ordered him to focus and find Doll. She could help him, she could, she liked him—

"Psst! Hey!"

The somewhat hoarse voice dragged Arganan out of his thoughts, and he turned to see a younger man seated in a cage, about the Agent's age or maybe a little younger. He had some black, oily-looking pompadour on his head, his leather jacket covered with a noticeable amount of spikes.

"Yeah, you." The younger man spoke, making eye contact with him. Even from the short distance away from the younger man, Arganan could tell that the man's skin was a pasty white. "I, uh, need your help, if you don't mind."

The older man frowned, crossing his arms. "Should I bother asking why or how you got caged up in here?" He spoke, raising an eyebrow.

"They call me Scorpion," The younger man responded, and he rattled the bars once. Arganan noticed a big padlock about the door of the cage. "Yeah, uh...some mean guys locked me in here. See that dagger near you? Just give it to me and I can get out. All I was doing was lookin' for Dolly, and—"

"Dolly?" Arganan blinked. Did this Scorpion mean by _Doll?_ "Does this same 'Dolly' you speak of have cracks on her face?"

Scorpion looked slightly surprised, but nodded. "Uh, yeah. Her name's _Painted Doll,_ by the way, and she's mine. Thought I'd make it clear." He responded smoothly.

Arganan raised an eyebrow. "Oh? I was under the impression that she was interested in me last time I met her. I did not notice your presence with her."

Judging by the strange name, Arganan took a guess. Took a guess that Scorpion was someone that worked here in Hell like the Painted Doll. Maybe he could outwit the younger man and make it clear that Doll was _his_ (because she _didn't_ belong with someone like Scorpion, she belonged with Arganan and Arganan already swore that he could do something right and protect her from people like Agent).

"Yeah right!" Scorpion had to laugh, had to _stupidly laugh._ "Damn, old man, are you that stupid? She may go around kissing everyone but she always comes back to me."

Arganan picked up the dagger on the ground, looking at it, and then to Scorpion. "Only if I let you out." He responded. "I could keep you caged in here."

He saw the younger man's eyes widen. "Hey, hey, don't—you can't just leave me here!"

Arganan found himself chuckling slightly as he gripped the dagger firmly in his hand. "I'll stab Agent for you next time I see him with it, promise." He drawled, turning on his heel. He had enough of dealing with the stupid Scorpion—and he really wanted to find Doll. Maybe she'd be pleased with what he did with him.

Walking in the opposite direction, Arganan ignored the yelled protests and rattling of cage bars from the jacket-wearing carnie.

* * *

Dagran couldn't help but groan as he woke up.

What happened? Why couldn't he move his arms right now? He was in a chair— _how_ did he get in a chair in the first place? He'd been trying to fight his way out of the Rosy Bayonettes' reach, tore some wood with nails poking out from a booth and—

 _Didn't they shoot him?_ He wanted to put a hand to his chest to check for the wound, but couldn't as his arms were restrained. He should have died by now of blood loss if not instantly from the shot alone. So why was he still breathing?

"Ah," A deep voice spoke, prickling with some amusement, "I see you're awake."

The former mercenary leader looked up to see a man, with horns protruding from his head, incredibly odd white and black makeup on his face that constrasted so much, _too_ much, with the red paint (or at least Dagran figured it had to be red paint) covering the rest of his skin that was visible. He wore a black robe, black pants and black boots, but they were anything _but_ plain in appearance.

But something about this man (other than the fact that he was dressed in a weird way like the Twin and the other woman from earlier) felt commanding, demanded attention, respect. Dagran _knew_ who this man had to be.

"You—" Dagran was surprised by how hoarse he sounded, "You're the guy ruling this place, aren't you?"

The other man merely smiled. "You're correct, Dagran. They call me Lucifer, The Devil, Satan...though I'd prefer Lucifer." He chuckled a bit, a book in his hands. Opening it up, he couldn't help but grin as he flipped a few pages. "Dagran, Dagran, Dagran...you've had quite the life despite it being so short. Years of manipulating others—"

Zael and the others came to mind. Dagran winced as he felt the memory surge through. That he'd used them as pawns for his own plans. For his own _twisted_ plans.

"Murder included—"

The sight of Asthar's dying face came to mind, after Dagran went and stabbed him. How Asthar's eyes were wide, barely any sound escaping him other than pain as he realized that he'd been betrayed.

"Framing others for said murder—"

Busting Zael out, getting Jirall in prison by forging a couple of things, putting things perfectly in place so the ex-fiance of Calista couldn't get out of it—

"And you even used your own natural skills to sweet talk higher-ups into completely trusting you."

Dagran remembered seeing the variety of scars that laced the whole left side of the Count. How Dagran had kissed him, talked to him, tried to sympathize with him for the sake of getting on his good side. _"Dagran..."_

Dagran gritted his teeth, nearly growling as he glared up at Lucifer. "I get it!" He snapped. "I'm not _that_ stupid to not know that I'm stuck in Hell for shit like that."

He then took it back silently. _Shit. Was he thinking?_ Pissing off someone who ruled Hell probably _wasn't_ in his best interest. Then again, he was more compulsive than he thought himself to be.

To his surprise, Lucifer simply laughed. "You're like Scorpion," He remarked, "A bit of a rebel, aren't you? Well..." He looked into Dagran's eyes. "I suppose you were expecting some great punishment, some... _horrific_ torture of sorts. But the way you're acting—I see your frustration. Your reaction is similar in a way to Lucius Arganan."

Dagran could not help but _stare._

"Arganan was here?" The words escaped him immediately.

Lucifer chuckled, shaking his head. "Oh, no, he never passed by my office. I just happened to observe him from the shadows a little bit while he was with my darling daughter, Painted Doll."

"Wait, _your_ daughter?" Dagran couldn't help but wince at _that._ "You're her father, then?"

"Hell _no!"_ The Devil burst into a brief fit of laughter. "Y-you believe that I'd have such a beautiful girl as her from _my_ loins? Though I have taken a shine to her, and dote on her. I admit that."

"Getting back to what I wished to address," Lucifer continued, "I've taken a good observation of you other than just your sins and I believe you might be useful enough."

Dagran blinked. "Useful?" He repeated. "For what?"

Lucifer merely smiled at him. "For taking down that divine pretender up in Heaven. I'm talking about going up there and defeating _God._ And you—and your Count friend—might just be perfect for what I need to taken down the forces of Heaven."

Was there a war between Heaven and Hell? Dagran figured that must be so.

And he couldn't help but be interested in this little opportunity.

"Go ahead and tell me everything about this. I think I might consider taking it on and I could probably persuade the Count to do that, too."

* * *

"Doll? Doll!"

Arganan passed another empty booth, keeping his right hand busy by twirling the dagger he stole from Scorpion. Why were all the booths and tents empty around here (other than the one he found Doll and Agent in of course)? Where was Painted Doll?

At least he'd got past those three strange women from earlier, but at the cost of Dagran's life. He winced at that. He didn't quite like having to sacrifice a lover for that. _If_ he could call himself and Dagran lovers of course. The Count admitted to himself that yes, he might have quite the liking to Dagran (why else would he find Dagran attractive in some way) and that yes, they slept together. But did what they have make them lovers, then? He wasn't quite sure.

He looked up to see the slender, petite womanly figure he knew from before.

 _Painted Doll!_

He did his best to run after her, knowing that he was limping from his lack of a cane with him.

He managed to catch up, much to his relief, and she turned to see him, smiling, beaming at him so beautifully.

"I..." He had to take a breath. He was never good at running so much. "I'm sorry," He managed, looking right into her different-coloured eyes. "I lost you earlier. Had to look all around for you..."

Painted Doll simply shook her head, still smiling, as if indicating that she forgave him. Grabbing him by the scarf, she pulled him right towards her, kissing him. It was rough but sweet and—

A deep laugh escaped _him_ as he pulled back, cracks, porcelain skin and all fading away to reveal the snake-skinned man Dagran told Arganan about not too long ago.

"So naive, like the last onnnnneee." Twin purred as Arganan recoiled, gasping. "Do you evverrrr learrrrnnnn...?"

The former Count glared at him, crossing his arms. "It wasn't funny," He hissed, "And I'm leaving. I'll find the real her, and I'm not playing your stupid game. I heard about you and I'm not going to fall for your shit." Turning on his heel, he started walking in the opposite direction.

"Waaiiittt..." He felt the Twin grab him gently by the wrist and Arganan tried to shake his grip off.

"No, I'm not—"

"Shee'ssss cominggg."

Arganan turned towards him. "She?" He repeated.

The Twin had a strange smile on his face, nodding. "Yessss." He responded. "In thirtttyyy minutesssss. Weeee play a gaameee. Passss the time until sheeee comessss." He let go of him, removing his own hat and pulling a deck of cards out, grinning. "Youuuu wissshhhh to plaaaayyy?"

Arganan tried to think. He could decline this strange man's offer, or risk the game with him and hope that he was telling his truth.

He decided to take the risk, nodding.

"Fine. Let's play."


End file.
